


Contrasts

by pennylehane



Series: split second [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Hard and Soft Porn, Smut, Spreader Bars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10674852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennylehane/pseuds/pennylehane
Summary: One pair of handcuffs in two very different scenes.





	Contrasts

**Author's Note:**

> Note tags + rating.

Aaron almost purred as the handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists. A hand smacked at his hip in gentle chastisement.

“Don’t think you’re going to enjoy this, Burr,” Hercules growled.

The pink fluff tickled at his wrists. “I can try.”

“You can,” he agreed, pulling Aaron’s jaw open just on the right side of painfully, and pushing the ball in with enough force to make him gag. “You’ll come to realise that you shouldn’t.”

Aaron’s eyes drifted half shut in the first dizzying trance of submission. Not quite enough to relax into, not yet. But nice. Hercules was touching him, not hurting, not gentle, just calloused hands feeling their way over a fresh canvas.

“Not much to work with,” he murmured. Aaron’s eyes snapped open to glare up at him. Herc caught his gaze and his hand trailed upwards, agonisingly slow, and clamped down on his throat. For a moment-- a series of moments, twisting and curling around each other like snakes biting at each other’s tails-- Aaron clamped down on his every muscle and forced himself not to move. React. Not even to fight for breath.

Hercules pressed harder. Aaron choked. Drool seeped humiliatingly around the gag, and Aaron averted his gaze.

Hercules thumbed gently at his cheek. “Good boy.”

Even around the gag, Aaron’s growl was audible. Fingertips pressed featherlight against his throat in a delicate reminder, and then withdrew as Hercules leaned over to fetch a spreader bar. Aaron moved a leg back to kick, but broad hands had his ankles before he could move, hoisting them up in the air like he was changing an infant.

Aaron bucked, furious, hips and shoulders rocking furiously against the chaise where Hercules had dropped him as first one, and then the other ankle was forced into place. Herc held him like that with just one hand on the bar, easily strong enough to keep Aaron half-suspended on his shoulders, the plush green velvet of the cushions too rough and too gentle against the skin of his back and neck as he squirmed and frenzied for freedom, bound wrists offering no purchase.

Heedless of his struggles, Hercules’ free hand massaged at the soles of his feet in an absurd mockery of soothing. Aaron thrashed even harder, but a rush of blood was pounding at the skin of his temples and prickling at his lips. He stilled.

Hercules let him rest his hips back on the velvet, but held his legs up a little longer, the same hand tracing down, thumbing at his shin, brushing over his thigh, falling to a harsh scrape of fingernail as it dragged up to his hole. Even through the gag, Aaron yowled.

The fingernail dug in, almost enough to break the fragile skin. “If the gag’s not enough to keep you quiet, Burr…”

Aaron quieted for a moment as he weighed his options. Hercules must have taken it as obedience, as he lowered the spreader bar back down and reached over for his next tool.

Aaron would not have that. One last desperate roll of his hips, and then legs and bar were swinging out, barely clipping Hercules’ arm, but easily sweeping the neat little rows of toys from the tabletop.

A hand slammed down on his thigh, his throat. Aaron grinned.

“You’re gonna regret that, Burr,” Herc said, voice sinking to new depths, subaquatic depths, where new and dark things lived.

Aaron moaned.

Hercules’ hands tightened for a moment, and then yanked, swinging Aaron down to the floor with such vicious force that the little bell in his hand was almost jarred from his grip. He clutched it like a lifeline.

One of the toys was digging into the small of his back. Something sharp and metal pressed against his shoulder. He could have melted, if there wasn’t even better to wait for.

But he was half-floating, now, ready to take, and take, and take. Still not enough.

Hercules told him that they would have to sort through all their toys again, smiling to himself, and smacked Aaron hard enough to send his head knocking against the floorboards when he didn’t respond.

“I think we’d better check you haven’t broken anything first,” he said, slowly, distracted as he ran his fingers over clamps, rings, little bottles. “Do you think you can guess how I’m going to test them?”

Aaron shivered. Hercules knew better than to try for soothing. Instead, he picked up his tools, and tested the ring Aaron liked least first, and then his favourite clamps. Aaron almost purred again, but didn’t want to risk losing this.

***

“Asshole,” Herc said without particular venom, examining the fresh bite mark where he had tried to switch out the ball gag for one of the ones that had fallen victim to Aaron’s little tumble. “That fucking hurt.”

“I didn’t even break the skin.” Aaron didn’t look at him, too busy moving through his elaborate routine of post-scene stretches and poses. Hercules watched him finish shamelessly.

“Take it you’re not staying?”

Aaron-- not hard any more, but certainly not sated, vibrations thrumming visibly through every stretch of taut skin over twitching muscle-- cocked an eyebrow. “You know better than to think you gave me all I needed.”

“Brat.”

“You love it.” Aaron pulled his jeans back on and slung one of Hercules’ sweatshirts over his bare shoulder. He paused on the way to the door, not looking back at Hercules watching him, to pick up the fluffy handcuffs from where they had been left over the arm of the chaise. “Mind if I take these?”

“They’re yours if you buy me dinner on Thursday.”

“Deal.” A sway of hips, an uninterpretable grin, and the door clicked shut behind him.

***

Lafayette whimpered as the handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists with a smooth clink of metal and a soft rustle of fur on skin as Aaron adjusted them.

“Easy, darling, easy,” he whispered.

Lafayette keened again, higher and reedier, nuzzling up from where his head rested in Aaron’s lap against his bare chest.

Soft hands drifted down to tug lightly at his hair. “Got to tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“More,” he breathed. “More, sir. More.”

“Good boy.” Aaron reached down to stroke Lafayette, one arm still cradling him in his lap, with little delicate tugs that made him mewl and squirm. “There’s my good boy.”

Lafayette turned his head, eyes tight shut under his blindfold, until his lips hit skin. Sucked.

Aaron laughed, honey-warm and indulgent. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, angel.”

“Promise,” he whispered.

The handcuffs felt soft, and tight. Aaron’s lap was warm. Lafayette nosed a little tighter into his crotch, humming, and hooked his teeth around the button of Aaron’s jeans.

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another smut prompt fill. You guys are a bad influence.


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